


red herring of a boyfriend

by SidewaysClarinet



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Biting and marking, Blood Drinking, Domestic Fluff, Hand Jobs, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidewaysClarinet/pseuds/SidewaysClarinet
Summary: Eren has to be a vampire, they say. He never goes outside and never eats in front of us, they say. They're so close to the truth that it makes Reiner both eager to strangle them, and antsy to skip town for how fucking awful it would be if they really found out.
Relationships: Reiner Braun/Eren Yeager
Comments: 15
Kudos: 155





	red herring of a boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> hihihi! i'm here with another ererei oneshot for u all <3

“Eren? A vampire? You’re kidding, right?”

“You’re full of shit, Galliard.”

“No, really, think about it!”

Reiner shifts uncomfortably in his seat as the table dissolves into drunken laughter turned mercilessly at the thoroughly tipsy Galliard brother. Marcel seems incredibly embarrassed to be sitting next to his brother as Porco drops his newest conspiracy theory, and eyes Bertholdt’s seat next to Annie with envy. Bertholdt gives him a sympathetic look and reaches around Annie to pat his shoulder with the ease of a man who knew his position was in danger, and yet had absolutely no plans of giving it up. Annie leans back into his arm, idly, as if to prove his point.

No, Marcel will be stuck, just as Reiner is, as the topic of the table turns to the human- or lack thereof -status of his boyfriend.

“Look, the guy is a total recluse!” Porco defends himself, waving his beer about. “We never see him outside, and we never see him eat, either!”

“We never see him, period,” Annie says dryly.

Zeke snorts around the rim of his whiskey glass. “Amen to that.”

“Uh, nobody does,” Porco counters, tilting his cup her way. “‘Cept for Braun and those friends of Eren’s, which- hey! We know nothing about, either! They could be monsters too, for all we know.”

“Don’t you think if they were monsters, we would know about them?” Yelena mutters. She’s here for Zeke and Zeke only, and has no intentions of fooling anyone otherwise. “That, and no freaks worth their salt would collect together like that.”

“Unless they’re a coven or some shit!” 

“C’mon, Porco, lay off it,” Marcel sighs. “If Eren really were a vampire, Reiner or Zeke would know for sure.”

Reiner tenses as the eyes of the table suddenly turn to him. “Uh.”

“Well, you knew him in high school, right?” Porco asks, narrowing his eyes. “And you’re dating him, too. So?”

“Annie and I knew him in high school, too,” Bertholdt says weakly, trying to defend him. Annie nods along with him, still sipping at her drink. “There’s nothing weird about Eren.”

“Yeah, see, that’s where you’re an unreliable resource. Eren’s as freaky as they come,” Porco snorts.

“Don’t say that, you’re being rude to poor Reiner,” Pieck speaks up. She’s busy dozing on the table, the sleepy drunk that she is, but she perks up when the conversation starts to take a turn. Reiner’s grateful for the support, from her and his old classmates, too. It feels awkward to sit here while his boyfriend’s supposed ‘freakiness’ is debated and argued about.

“Eren’s not a vampire,” Reiner sighs, reaching up to rub at his nose. “Why would a monster hunter date a vampire?”

“Well, you’re not exactly the most stalwart out of us,” Porco says, his nose wrinkling a bit. The drink is making him meaner than normal; Reiner tries to remember this, but it’s still old wounds that Porco is currently picking at. “Aren’t you always talking about humane killing? Wouldn’t surprise me if you took pity on a pretty one and fell for him.”

“A pretty one, huh, Pock?” Pieck asks, grinning mischievously. “You think Eren is pretty? Ooh, don’t let Reiner know!”

“I’m right here,” Reiner complains, half-heartedly. He’s not that easy to forget, is he?

Porco, however, has started to flush at the cheeks and turns his accusatory drink-waving towards Pieck. “I do not! He- He’s weird-looking! And a total douche bag! I don’t even like that  _ Reiner’s _ dating him!”

“Is that protectiveness, then?” Pieck coos.

Reiner, for his part, is conflicted on whether or not to be grateful that the conversation has turned from him, or strangely flattered (and uncomfortable) that the source of Porco’s aggravation towards Eren seems to be out of some weird sense of protectiveness. It’s a weird role for him to take, and one that Marcel seems intent to tease Porco on as well, if the glint in his eye is anything to go by. However awkward it is, it’s at least a good opportunity to head out for the night, and Reiner has no intentions of passing it up. He pushes his chair back and stands, a bit unsurprised by the way it draws groans up from the table.

“Reiner, already?” Marcel pleads. “C’mon, Porco didn’t mean it, he’ll shut up now!”

“Fuck off, Marcel!”

“It’s not because of him,” Reiner says, holding his hands up placatingly. “It’s just late, y’know?”

“It’s a friday,” Annie points out.

“Oh, let him go,” Pieck murmurs, shifting to lie more comfortably on the table. “He has a boyfriend, now, he’s probably just going to go get started on their weekend together.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Bertholdt says softly, looking down at Annie. The woman is drifting off more and more, her head lying loosely against his shoulder. The affection in his eyes makes Reiner smile; he can’t really be upset, not when seeing the fruits of Bertholdt’s years of effort working himself into Annie’s heart.

“You guys should, too,” he tells his friend, as Marcel and Porco start to dissolve from teasing pokes into more brawling shoves. “There’s a new pastry shop that’s having a grand opening this weekend, a few blocks over. Annie would love it.”

“You should come with us!” Bertholdt says, eyes widening with his smile. “We could do a double date.”

“Disgusting,” Yelena mutters. 

Reiner ignores her, and instead looks only at his friend. “We’ll think about it. Eren’s been pretty tired lately, but I’ll see if he’s up for it.”

With that, there’s really nothing keeping him there other than being polite and saying his goodbyes. Marcel and Porco are too deep into their brotherly brawling to really notice him, and both Yelena and Zeke are dead to the world, as always. He gets sleepy goodbyes out of Pieck and Annie, and a more enthusiastic one out of Bertholdt. Reiner looks at Pieck once more, amused, as he leaves, and thinks that he really should call Hange and tell them to pick up their girlfriend before she sleeps the whole night away at the bar.

The night breeze is cool on his face, and he takes a deep breath as he steps out into the street, grateful for the clean air. It’s pretty stuffy in the bar, as always, not to mention utterly reeking with the scent of alcohol. Reiner’s never been into drinking, so sitting through their team meetings is always a chore. Every day that passes makes him consider vaseline under his nose more and more, if only to free himself of the sour stench of the bar.

As he follows the familiar path back home, he draws his phone out of his pocket and dials up a number. He holds it up to his ear as it rings, waiting for his boyfriend to pick up. It brings a smile to his face when Eren does, and the honey taste of his just-woke-up voice comes through the speaker.

_ “Hey. You done already?” _

“Yeah, I didn’t want to hang around long,” Reiner chuckles, cradling his phone closely as if it were Eren himself. “Porco’s convinced that you’re a vampire, now.”

_ “Is he?” _ Eren asks, equally amused.  _ “What did everyone else think?” _

“None of them bought into it, of course,” Reiner says, and is rewarded with the soft sound of Eren’s laughter. He takes a look at the restaurants that he passes by, and idly asks, “Do you want anything to eat while I’m in town?”

_ “A new pack of cigarettes, yeah.” _

Reiner’s nose wrinkles, and he frowns. “You know those things are no good for you. How many packs have you been through this week?”

_ “Too many. I’ll have to go buy more myself,”  _ Eren sighs.  _ “Nothing, then.” _

“Have you eaten at all today?”

_ “Maybe. I don’t know, just got off of work.” _

“You should be watching your blood sugar more carefully,” Reiner chides gently, even though he knows he’ll end up having this same discussion with Eren the next weekend, and likely every weekend after that. “I’ll get you something from the Japanese place. Do you still like their fried rice?”

_ “I think so.” _

“Alright, I’ll get that and be home. I’ll see you then, I love you.”

_ “Love you too. Hurry up.” _

The click of the dial tone follows, and Reiner drops his phone back into his pocket, feeling a bit giddy as he approaches the Japanese food stand on his left.  _ Hurry up,  _ Eren had said. It’s the closest thing to an ‘I miss you’ for Eren, and just the thought has his heart fluttering like he’s a silly teenager again. Despite their age, Eren always manages to make him feel like that; elated, on cloud nine, always in the throes of new love. He can’t imagine being with anyone else in the world.

It’s just a few minutes longer before he has the food acquired, and he’s on his way home. The warmth from the bag in his hand pales in comparison to the warmth in his chest as he approaches their apartment; it never fades, his excitement to see his boyfriend at the end of every work day. Sure, Eren may seem prickly to others, but Reiner knows better, and he’s the only one who needs to know better. It doesn’t matter to him if Porco, or the others, think Eren is freaky or weird. In fact, it pleases a selfish little part of him (that he’ll never stop feeling guilty over), because that just means that nobody will come between them.

He’s in high spirits when he fishes out his key and uses it to unlock the door, calling out a gentle ‘I’m home’ as he approaches the dinner table and sets down the bag of food. The apartment is warm in comparison to the cool air outside, and dimly lit by the lamps that Reiner loves the most. It’s part of their compromise in decorating their home: Reiner gets the lights, Eren chooses the couches; Reiner picks out the plants, and Eren arranges the wall decor; Reiner assembles the other house furniture, and Eren buys those sinfully silky sheets that Reiner never has the strength to spend the money on. It works for them, no matter how odd it looks.

He peeks around the wall dividing the dining and living rooms, and sees Eren dozing lightly on the couch. There’s some sort of program on the TV that lights up the room, and judging by the low volume as Reiner approaches, Eren has already been napping for a while. He feels a fondness rise up in his chest as he leans over the back of the couch, brushing Eren’s long hair aside to press a kiss to his cheek. The other man lets out a sleepy murmur, blinking awake as Reiner continues to brush his tangled hair out of his face. He must have taken a shower when he got home and dozed off with damp hair.

“Is that why you were so short on the phone?” Reiner murmurs into his hair. “Napping?”

“You were taking too long,” Eren replies. He tilts his head back. “Kiss, kiss.”

Reiner smiles and leans down further to press a kiss to his lips. “C’mon, come eat, aren’t you hungry?”

“Hn.” Eren reaches a hand up to the back of his head and pulls him down again, stealing another kiss before pressing one to Reiner’s cheek. “Aren’t you?”

“I can wait,” Reiner protests, although it falls a bit flat when Eren continues to kiss a trail up his cheek. The movement brings Reiner lower, to the point where his nose brushes up against Eren’s neck, and it’s so, so tempting to forget about the dinner on the table. Eren smells too good—fresh, like shower soap and his cologne, and the unique hint of something that’s just so uniquely  _ Eren.  _ “Sweetheart, the food…”

“It can wait,” Eren murmurs into his ear. “C’mere, I know you want to.”

Despite his- admittedly for show -protests, Eren manages to get him around the back of the couch and onto it. He always likes having Reiner sit on his lap, despite their size differences, and gets Reiner there again this time. The position always makes Reiner feel bulky and a little awkward, but then Eren keeps him held in with possessive hands and that adoring light in his eyes that always manages to wash the feeling away. 

Eren always looks at Reiner like he belongs to him, like there’s nowhere else in the world that he’d be happy except with Reiner in his arms. Sure, it may seem creepy to some people, or territorial to others, but he likes it. It’s nice being wanted, having all his ugly parts known and acknowledged but still getting such a devoted love in return. His friends don’t really get it, but they don’t need to get it; Reiner loves Eren, and Eren loves him. 

“What are you thinking about?” Eren asks him, tracing his fingers underneath the hem of Reiner’s shirt.

“You,” Reiner answers, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “The food on the table.”

“Not just me?”

“Mostly you,” he corrects, smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Eren murmurs. He leans up to give Reiner a fuller kiss, and it’s gentle, slow. It’s domestic, and Reiner practically preens under the attention. He adores this, adores Eren; the feel of his hands, his thighs, his lips, the taste of his tongue… Reiner sees the sense in Eren’s suggestion, now. He can’t wait a moment longer, not now that he has Eren with him again. 

“Can I-“ Even though Eren had been the one to suggest it, Reiner feels somewhat shy, now. The other man waits patiently for him to finish. “Can I eat? Please?”

“Of course.” Eren presses a kiss to his chin, ever gentle. “Go on. I’m ready.”

(You see, there’s a certain irony to his team’s discussion at the bar. Porco had the right signs; never seeing Eren in sunlight, or eating human food—those were all good giveaways that something was odd about a person. Porco could also look to a person’s pallor, or to their breathing, or lack thereof. He could feel for a heartbeat, rather subtly, or check for reaction to silver. If he was particularly quick, he could look for the telltale sharp canines. If he was smart, he would have looked for these things.)

(And if he was smart, he would have realized that the real vampire is Reiner himself.)

He leans down to Eren’s neck, and the scent there is headier, thicker. It’s Eren, and it’s iron, and it’s everything sweet in the world. He kisses the other man’s neck first, an apology for what’s to come, and licks a trail up his chosen spot, coating it with a numbing saliva. He can hear Eren’s pulse pick up from here, as he opens his mouth and presses his teeth against tan skin. He can’t hold himself back any longer, and sinks sharp teeth down into Eren’s waiting flesh. The other man grunts at the pain, but keeps still, and Reiner’s grateful for it. 

Eren always lets him drink, as long and as much as Reiner wants. He never complains, or demands anything in return. No, judging by the hardness between his legs that Reiner feels as he shifts, Eren’s into it too, possibly even more than Reiner himself is. It’s only feeding, but it’s such a vulnerable, primal act; Eren is putting his life and his safety into Reiner’s hands, and it isn’t easy for him, but he does so anyway. Reiner loves him for it. God, does he love him for it. 

The taste of Eren’s blood falls hot and sweet over his tongue, and he can’t help the groan he lets out at the taste. No one tastes as good as his boyfriend does, no one that he’s ever tried before. Bertholdt is a close second, and just as helpful and secretive as a good donor should be, but Eren is just… different. Reiner can never rely on Bertholdt the same, not for the vulnerability, not for the carnal hunger that comes along. He can always feed from Bertholdt whenever he needs, but for the rest of it? Eren is here. 

The other man’s hands, previously held just loosely atop his hips, start to move, start to trace up his back and beneath his shirt again. He draws Reiner forward until their hips are flush, until the hardness beneath their pants are pressed up together. He’s just as frisky as Reiner is after feeding, and just as eager to satisfy and be satisfied. He tilts his head to the side beautifully for Reiner’s better access, bringing one hand up to cup the back of his neck, to hold him close. 

“How long has it been since the last time?” Eren asks him, quiet. His fingers are soft at the nape of Reiner’s neck, threading through the short hairs there. “You’ve been holding back again, haven’t you?”

Reiner can’t speak around the flesh in his mouth—he wouldn’t try to even if he could. It’s terribly rude, in his opinion. Instead, he gives an apologetic little hum, and pulls back, licking up the stray droplets of blood that threaten to stain Eren’s dark green shirt. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I-”

But then, the grip at the back of his neck turns to iron, and Eren pushes Reiner’s head back into the crook of his shoulder and neck. “I didn’t say you could stop. Go on.”

“I- Eren,” Reiner protests weakly, keeping still against Eren’s grip. Sure, he could break free rather easily, but why would he want to? “You haven’t eaten yet.”

“That’s my problem,” the other man replies, breezily. “Not yours. Drink.”

“Sweetheart…” Reiner tries one last time.

“C’mon, puppy, get a move on.”

And oh, Eren is going to hell for that. Reiner is intent on telling him so, but Eren only gives him another light push, and then the marks left behind by his teeth are right there in front of him. It’s tempting, so tempting, and the pet name still buzzes beneath his skin. Reluctantly, he leans down to press his teeth back in, making a fresh mark. His reluctance fades entirely when that first taste hits his tongue.

Like he was just waiting for Reiner to continue, Eren starts moving then. He brings both hands down to Reiner’s waist, and there, his grip is firm again, pulling Reiner close, grinding them together. He’s more surprised that Eren isn’t pulling clothes off already, but judging how his hands are on the move again, belts are probably about to go. True to his suspicion, Eren starts to wrestle with his pants and belt, barely even getting them around his waist before he’s pulling Reiner’s cock out.

The first touch of his cold hands has Reiner jolting, and the movement makes his teeth cut through Eren’s skin a bit. He moves to pull back, but then Eren’s grip tightens on his cock, almost harsh enough to be painful.

“Don’t stop,” Eren tells him. “I’ll tell you when.”

Reiner makes the split second choice to trust his judgement, but he slows his drinking anyways. He’s passed the point of feeding for necessity yet, and now it’s just pleasure; the excess gives him a warm buzz like alcohol does for humans, and with Eren’s ministrations around his dick, it’s becoming much harder to keep control of himself. It’s a little embarrassing, how his breath picks up enough to be audible now. Reiner writhes in Eren’s lap a bit, trying to calm himself, but the attempt only makes the other man chuckle.

“You’re so cute when you feed.”

“You’re delirious,” Reiner murmurs, pulling back again. Really, it’s not healthy for Eren to let him take so much at once! “I’m not drinking anymore.”

Eren only gives a little hum. With that activity shut down, he turns his attention to Reiner’s cock instead, giving it another teasing squeeze and pull. “I’ll just take this, then.”

Whatever he could say in return is interrupted by a little gasp at the tease. Reiner’s thighs tense around Eren’s hip, but then he thinks better about it, and forces himself to relax. He could hurt Eren if he wasn’t careful—he needs to remember that, but it’s hard when the other man seems so determined to make him lose control. Reiner can see his eyes now, how bright they are with desire and excitement, and it sends shivers up his back. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, feeling his cheeks burn.

“Like what?” Eren asks, teasing. 

Reiner’s cheeks turn darker, and he looks away, equal parts endeared and embarrassed. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” his boyfriend chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to Reiner’s clothed chest. “But it’s entirely your fault, you know. How am I not supposed to want to fuck you silly when you look like that?”

“Eren!” Reiner laughs, slapping his shoulder. “Quit that.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” he murmurs. The kiss at Reiner’s neck turns into a second, and then a third, and then he’s biting down and sucking, marking Reiner’s pale neck up with dark red hickies. He’s always been partial to leaving marks, and considering how long it’s been since they’ve last fucked, Reiner already knows that the chances of him escaping this encounter unscathed are incredibly slim. 

“Don’t get too eager, Bertholdt wants to go see that pastry place with us later this weekend,” Reiner tells him. It would be pretty embarrassing if he had to show up with a necklace of lovebites again; he’s sure that Bertholdt will see it and gossip about it to Armin, and then Armin will tell Mikasa, and Mikasa will get pestered by Hange into spilling the details, and it’ll pass from Hange to Pieck and then the team, like always, and then there really will be no end to the teasing.

“Bertholdt, huh?” Eren asks, his hand pausing for a moment around Reiner’s cock.

“Yeah.” Reiner nods, a bit confused and even a little concerned— what made Eren stop? “Him and Annie, like a double date.”

Eren is quiet for a moment longer, and then he pulls Reiner in impossibly closer. “Bite me.”

“Eren, no!” Reiner protests. “You’ll get sick!”

“You don’t have to drink,” the other man huffs, oddly impatient. “Just bite. C’mon.”

“...can I ask why?” He feels like there’s something behind this. Eren is avoiding eye contact, now. 

“Bertholdt was your old donor, right?” Eren asks. He looks up, then, and Reiner feels his heart skip a beat. Ah, he’s so stupid; Eren isn’t insecure, or nervous. No, there’s that familiar dark tint of possessiveness in his eyes, stronger than before, but just as breath-taking as it always is. “Humor me.”

Reiner chuckles. Now that he understands, the concern fades. He leans down to Eren’s neck again, nosing up the column of his throat to find a good place. “What, and make me look like a messy eater?”

“No, just to make it clear who’s taking care of those needs now,” Eren replies, strangely breezy despite the iron-possessive grip of his free hand on Reiner’s waist. 

“Bertholdt has liked Annie for a long time, sweetheart,” Reiner murmurs into his skin. This area is good: not too many veins, more fleshy than anything. It gives way smoothly when he bites down, but he doesn’t drink. He really did mean it when he said Eren would get sick.

“I know,” Eren hums. His hold on Reiner’s cock says otherwise. It’s tight, and suddenly quick with the pumping, drawing a groan out of him. Sure, the jealousy is silly; Reiner is in love with him, always has been, and always will be, and he knows Eren feels the same. But, at the same time, isn’t it fun? Rutting like teenagers, caring only about their next release and the marks they can leave. 

Reiner leans back for a second, snickering. “We’re too old for this.”

“Heh, maybe.”

And it is silly, really, but it’s too fun to resist. Eren jacks him off quick and fast, and Reiner litters his neck with bite marks in return, so equally torn between amused and aroused that he can’t help snickering again. 

“You’re really not reassuring me about my performance, here,” Eren huffs.

“Sorry,” Reiner says, a little breathless. He leans back to look at Eren, and all he can think is  _ pretty, pretty, pretty.  _ “I love you.”

Eren kisses him on the lips this time, soft and wet. “I love you, too.”

The pace is sweeter, gentler than how they’d started. Eren kisses him freely, swallowing up each breath and moan, pulling every noise from his lips, loving and selfish both in what he takes. He’s giving, too; he pumps Reiner just the way Eren knows he likes, thumbs at the tip and squeezes around the head. He knows every part of Reiner, everything that makes his toes curl and his breath hitch. Eren knows him, and loves him, and Reiner can’t ask for anything more.

He comes with a groan and a gasp, spilling over Eren’s fingers and into his palm. Eren pumps him through it, kissing him gentle across his chin and his cheeks, adoration in every press of his lips. Reiner leans his forehead against his boyfriend’s shoulder, letting his eyes slip shut as the last of the waves ripple through him. The only movement comes when Eren reaches into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief, wiping his hand off and crumpling it up to throw somewhere.

Reiner idly watches it go, feeling pleasantly tired and sated. “Your food’s probably cold by now.”

“It’s fine,” Eren hums.

He reaches his hands up to firmly, but softly, move Reiner off of his lap and onto the couch, helping him get situated across the fluffy cushions as he pulls back and stands up. Reiner watches him go to the table, pulling out his box and a plastic fork before returning back to the couch. There, he sits down again, pulling Reiner’s legs into his lap and shuffling close. Reiner’s always thought that he’s like a cat, in that way: demanding of affection, but unwilling to voice it out loud.

“You know,” Eren starts. “I used to be worried about you hanging around them, but if Galliard’s thinking that I’m the vampire, then maybe you’re safer than I thought.”

“Heh! You’re right about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on twitter @/yuri_otoko! or join my discord server for aot fandom introverts, working adults, busy people, and otherwise not-so-aggressively-energetic people! https://discord.gg/tmBawP7yCr


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